Karen Comer

My favourite childhood book

October 14, 2016 by Karen Comer 8 Comments

Isn’t it interesting that many qualities and characteristics we had as children are the same traits we have now as adults? When I was a kid I made crafty things like latch-hook and cross-stitch, read a lot, wrote stories and I liked cooking. As an adult, I’m still reading and writing stories, still enjoy cooking (even though I love a break from everyday family cooking!) and I sew quilts and clothes for my kids and dabble in paints. Some things never change!

Miss Ten reread my favourite childhood book during the holidays, and it made me wonder why I loved it so much. The book is The ordinary princess by M. M. Kaye, for 7-10 year-olds, most likely girls.

It’s about a seventh-born princess who receives some beautiful gifts from her fairy godmothers on her christening day, such as charm, wit, grace and courage. But when the last godmother turns up, cranky and crusty, she grants the princess the gift of ordinariness. So Princess Amethyst becomes Amy, and as she grows up, no one wants to marry her. When Amy finds out her family are planning to lay waste a dragon in order for a prince to come and kill it to win her hand in marriage, she runs away to the forest and lives quite happily until she needs a new dress. She walks to a castle, finds work as a scullery maid, and plans to work there until she has enough money to buy a dress. But she meets a rather nice page, who turns out to be the prince of the castle. I will leave it to your imagination as to how the story ends!

I loved that this story was divided into four sections, based on the lullaby, Lavender’s blue. The structure was so satisfying then, and I still appreciate a beautifully structured novel now. I loved the ‘realness’ of Amy and the contrast of the real characters against a little bit of magic. Amy was so grounded, the palace and forest worlds were well built, and I still like reading children’s fantasy novels. I thought that Amy was a heroine to be admired – she took matters into her own hands, was quite resilient and independent and could work hard. She was obviously a bit of a rebel – but in a very nice way! And even at 8, I loved the romance.

My copy was published in 1980, and it has my maiden name written in roundish writing on the first page. The cover is lavender, with Amy staring dreamily into the distance. She wears a crown with amethysts and a long flowing dress with white cross stitches down the back.

When I reread it this week, the words were so very familiar. Sometimes we try to encourage our kids to read widely and to read as many books as they can. We forget the joys of knowing a favourite book inside and out, of enjoying being with a wonderful character again, and even though we know how the story will end, appreciating different nuances of the story when reading for the second or third time.

I wish I could go back in time and tell my eight-year-old self that reading would take me places and that one day I would write stories for eight-year-olds and adult stories that were based on fairytales. Kate Northrup wrote a blog piece this week called ‘We are who we always are.’ I’m still a little girl, reading and writing, making stuff. It makes me look at my kids with new eyes – what strengths and passions do they have now, and where will that take them?

I’m feeling nostalgic! Let me know what your favourite childhood book was – and have you reread it as an adult or shared it with your kids?

Mothers and daughters – books and excursions

October 7, 2016 by Karen Comer 6 Comments

Mothers and daughters – this is a subject that has been extensively used in mediocre, sentimental movies and rather ordinary novels with family sagas but it is also the source of brilliant books, movies and plays.

I’m back from a lovely long weekend trip to Sydney with Miss 10 and my Mum. As Miss 10 broke her ankle during the first week of the holidays – collided with her big brother on her bike! – we hired a wheelchair, which meant Miss 10 was treated like royalty everywhere we went.

We went to the Taronga Zoo, ate out, painted our nails, saw Aladdin (magical!), meandered through bookstores, shopped, went to mass at the cathedral, caught a ferry or two and had lunch with a lovely friend.

In honour of our three-generation girls’ weekend, I have looked up some books which cover at least two generations of women. I know I’m missing heaps of titles – let me know if I’ve missed any of your favourites!

Little women by Louise May Alcott – I don’t know how many times I’ve read this book, and I’m probably ready to read it again, then share it with Miss 10. Four sisters, guided by Marmee, going through many trials and tribulations of finding work, getting along with each other, falling in love, marrying, having children of their own against the background of the American Civil War – it sounds like a modern day soap opera but it’s so much more than this.

The women’s pages – Debra Adelaide – young women who have imagined different alternatives for themselves, who are missing adopted mothers, searching for the true story of their mother, giving up babies for adoption – there are many sensitively portrayed stories of mothers and daughters here.

The poisonwood bible – Barbara Kingsolver – this is such an amazing story of another mother with four daughters, starting a new life in the Congo. I’m ready to read this one again, too!

Finding Serendipity – Angelica Banks – a wonderful children’s novel, first in a trilogy, about a writer mother and her writer daughter and their adventures in literary worlds.

The convent – Maureen McCarthy – an adopted daughter, a biological mother looking for her adopted-out daughter, a grandmother filling in a few details in her letters – this story weaves in and out of the past and present with a dual narrative.

Hope Farm – Peggy Frew – an irresponsible mother who still deserves our empathy, a resilient daughter who eventually chooses a new life for herself – there are many different choices and paths in this book.

Mother and child (film) – I have only seen this once but it was powerful and evocative. Three different women, unknown to each other but connected by the end of the film. Three daughters, with mothers and without mothers.

Our weekend away was not worthy of a novel because there weren’t any family secrets to keep a reader intrigued, there wasn’t any tension to sustain a whole narrative, and there weren’t any complex relationships to add to the plot. A beautiful Sydney setting was the only essential narrative tool. Miss 10 did cry out once in mock terror, in the middle of a city street as I was pushing her in her wheelchair, ‘Help, help, I’m being kidnapped!’ But as Mum pointed out, she looks too much like me for anyone to think she was being kidnapped so no suspenseful moments there! I think I’m happy to keep the intrigue and tension in my books but out of my life!

From the outer, footy like you’ve never heard it – book review

September 30, 2016 by Karen Comer 4 Comments

There is nothing like being in a Melbourne pub on a Saturday night watching the footy. Last weekend, we took the kids out for an early dinner. We ate outside, but then came in for dessert because it was cold. There was a crowd of people standing in front of the tv because it was the last ten minutes of the footy game between the Bulldogs and GWS. Not our teams, but of course, we had to barrack for the Bulldogs so there’d be one Victorian team in the grand final.

We didn’t know anyone else in the pub, but it was clear we were all connected by our mutual desire for the Bulldogs to win. A pregnant woman apologised for blocking our view. A man told another woman that he had never cared for the Bulldogs before but he really hoped they would win tonight. The noise level went up and down, up and down as the Bulldogs scored a goal and hit the lead, then lost their advantage again. There were fist pumps for another goal from the Bulldogs. Everyone shouted, ‘Go Doggies!’ as if our voices could propel just one more goal though the white sticks. Our kids stared at the tv, Spanish churros halfway to their lips.

And finally, the siren sounded, the Doggies hugged each other, the GWS players collapsed on the ground and the pub erupted with cheers. It reminded me why it’s fabulous to be a footy fan, in a Melbourne pub watching a semi-final.

And because this is a book review post(!) I wanted to share a wonderful non-fiction anthology about footy, From the outer, footy like you’ve never heard it, edited by Alicia Sometimes and Nicole Hayes. This is a diverse collection of essays, recollections, musings and stories from writers who are Aboriginal, gay, lesbian, female, male, with a disability, from outside Australia.

The editors wanted ‘to broaden the conversation to reflect the extent of this diversity’, of people who love footy in many capacities. The best way to show you the diversity of this book is to give you a snapshot of the voices.

Kirby Bentley – I still believe that the diversity of footy brings people together, regardless of race, fitness, skill set or upbringing. Aussie Rules is Australia’s game, and more and more, it is providing opportunities for young girls and women to play professionally. They now have a pathway to the women’s league, which is fantastic for the next generation of girls.

Christos Tsiolkas – To this day, I have sympathy for the player who goes off-side, or has the crowd screaming furiously at them, ‘Ball!’ The embarrassed shrug of their shoulders, their refusal to look out to the crowd, the spitting out of an expletive: I know exactly how they feel.

Jacqui James – In 2000, after Docklands Stadium was only just built, Francis decided to take me to my very first footy match. What would have been an exhilarating experience turned into a war with the stadium. We didn’t realise all the disabled car parks are underground, and my 2.4 metre-high commuter van wouldn’t fit. We had to park outside the ground instead. It was very painful and difficult, travelling all that way… The game, however, was incredible.

Van Badham – She is, after all, an emotional person – and her love of AFL gives her a safe place to put those emotions, from exuberance to anxiety, from disappointment to simple, overwhelming human joy. Mum loves the game because it is a spectacle, and it’s this quality she admires the most in her team.

Peta Searle – The goal of a great coach is to guide, inspire and empower people to achieve their full potential as players and as people, by getting them to believe in themselves, and then to stretch the limits of their beliefs. Great coaches are emotionally mature, keenly self-aware, and have the ability to manage their emotions. They are able to create substantial relationships with others, are empathetic and tuned in to their players’ feelings. They must have genuine care and interest in all of their players and support team. But most of all they coach the person, not the player.

Tony Birch – Whenever I want to replenish my attachment to Fitzroy I head for the old Brunswick Street oval and allow its spirit to draw me in.

Erin Riley – I loved the natural way the ball moved, free of arbitrary offside rules. I loved the pace and the skill of the players. I loved that a 30-point margin at three-quarter time wasn’t enough to feel safe. I loved singing the song and donning the red and white. I loved the ritual and the passion. I loved the game.

Alan Duffy – ‘This is a Hawks family, Alan,’ were the words my prospective in-laws told me when I first started dating their daughter nearly six years ago.

Bev O’Connor – Some women would have been insulted, but my view has always been simple: someone has to be the first and if we can do a half-decent job it should mean the barrier gates open and women can come flooding in from the outer.

Leila Gurruwiwi – I have been subjected to and witnessed racism – both blatantly and subtly – in the wider community and within the AFL scene, and until you have been somewhere where you are seen as different because of the colour of the skin, you can’t truly understand how it feels.

Are you going to watch the Grand Final tomorrow? Or are you going for a long walk in peace or heading to a quiet shopping centre? And did you relate to any of the voices within From the outer?

Words in deep blue – book review

September 23, 2016 by Karen Comer 10 Comments

Sometimes I feel that it is my job to find beautiful books and tell others about them because I feel their lives will be enriched. Cath Crowley’s young adult novel, Words in deep blue, is one such book.

The story is told in first person, alternating between Henry, who has finished year 12, works in his family’s secondhand bookshop and has just been dumped by his girlfriend, Amy – and Rachel, his ex-best friend, moving back to the city after being away for three years and who lost her younger brother when he drowned at sea.

The setting had me at hello – a secondhand bookshop with a letter library. The letter library section is full of secondhand books which can’t be bought because anyone is welcome to come in and underline or highlight or write notes about their favourite lines or paragraphs. The result is layer upon layer of annotated messages between strangers, friends and lovers. People also leave letters between the pages of their favourite books for strangers, friends or lovers to find. The letters form part of the story.

The characters are well-read, appreciate nuances, discuss books, write well and care deeply. As older teenagers, they are also caught up in their world of girlfriends and boyfriends, friends, music, books, going out, lack of money, jobs, fitting in, parents, school, social media.

Here’s a passage from Rachel:

Henry read me ‘The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock’ once, on a night in year 8. We were lying on the floor of the bookstore, and I’d told him that I didn’t like poetry. ‘I can’t understand it, so it never makes me feel anything.’

‘Hang on,’ he’d said, going over to the shelves.

He came back with the Prufrock. The poem did sound like a love song. As I listened I stared at a mark on the ceiling that looked like a tear-shaped sun. The mark somehow got mixed with the words.

I didn’t know exactly what ‘The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock’ was about, but lying there next to Henry, with his voice so close, I wanted to disturb something. I wanted to disturb us, shake us out of him seeing me as just Rachel, his best friend. I loved the poem for making me feel like disturbance was possible. And because it said something to me about life that I wanted to know, but didn’t understand.

I stayed up way too late to finish this book, and found myself crying at one point. Because this book had disturbed me – in a good way. It holds characters with dreams and pasts, a bookshop with fluid connections between the living and the dead, the possible and the imagined.

What’s the latest (good) disturbing book you’ve read?

Glimpse of greatness

September 16, 2016 by Karen Comer 17 Comments

As a reader, we want the protagonist of our story to be interesting but not perfect. We want them to reach their goal or follow their quest. They need to be vulnerable, so we can identify with them. And we want to see a glimpse of greatness – not too much because that would make them too perfect. But just enough to make us believe in their ability to reach their goal.

Last weekend, I went to a course run by Faber and Faber with Allen and Unwin – Getting published as a writer for children. Susannah Chambers, commissioning editor, was a wonderful presenter, giving us specific details about publishing proposals, editorial meetings and pitching. She explained that for Allen and Unwin to publish a book, the editors must catch a glimpse of greatness in the writer.

We all had a chance to pitch our novel to her, as well as receive feedback on the first chapter of our work in progress. Susannah’s encouraging presence made this daunting task seem possible! This kind of individual attention to aspiring authors is what sets Allen and Unwin apart from other publishers. I’ve been to many writing courses over the last six years but there’s not many that offer this kind of feedback. Susannah’s passion for books and her instinct for what worked and what didn’t work rang true throughout the whole workshop.

We also listened to Chris Miles, a children’s author, talk about his road to publication. A couple of non-fiction books, a couple of Zac Powers books, and then his children’s novel, Spurt. He reminded us that there are many opportunities out there, even if they’re not the opportunities we’re dreaming of.

We heard from Ann James, an illustrator of many, many, many picture books. She showed us her dummy books, her sketches, her finished work for books like Lucy Goosy, I’m a dirty dinosaur and Audrey of the outback. She spoke to us about the importance of ‘finding books that remind us of possibilities’. I have been to Ann’s bookshop, Books Illustrated, and I’m looking forward to visiting their new location in Albert Park one day. Now that is a place full of possibilities!

Apart from the discount Readings voucher, the discount offer on subsequent Faber and Faber course, the useful handouts and the gift of an Allen and Unwin book – yes, apart from all of that goodness! – Allen and Unwin also encourage Faber and Faber graduates to send in their work via their Friday pitch.

One of the best things about going to the Faber and Faber workshop was that my creative energy was renewed, my commitment to my writing strengthened and I felt just so delighted to be in the company of people who care about writing and publishing beautiful books.

So, my first book in my four book series for middle grade is almost complete. I’m working on a last structural edit, moving scenes around, adding in a few new ones. I’m checking my characters’ motivations, making sure I’m showing and not telling. I’m colour coding elements like setting and external goals and internal goals and tension so I can see the pacing more clearly. My writing group have offered to read another draft – thanks, team! It feels like I’m holding a woven piece on a loom, tying all the loose threads, making sure the patterns are there in the light of day, that the colours shine through, that none of the threads slip and become lost.

I’m chasing the glimpses of greatness in my protagonist, so I can send my manuscript to Allen and Unwin later in the year.

The importance of dads who read

September 2, 2016 by Karen Comer 4 Comments

One of my favourite family photos is of my husband and Mr 12, when Mr 12 was only weeks old. My husband is lying on our bed reading a book with our baby son lying on his chest, wobbly head focused on the book. Be still my beating heart – two of my favourite men reading together!

When the kids were very little, I would always buy a picture book about dads for them to give to my husband on Father’s Day. Now, we’re almost past the picture book stage but we still give him books on Father’s Day.

Some of our favourite picture books which feature fabulous dads are My Dad by Anthony Browne, Up on Daddy’s shoulders by Matt Berry and the beautiful Owl Moon by Jane Yolen.

There’s also a marvellous dad in Danny the champion of the world by Roald Dahl, an absent but loving dad in The fourteenth summer of Angus Jack and the absolutely gorgeous dad in Finding Serendipity by Angelica Banks.

Studies such as this one from Harvard University show there are numerous benefits for kids and dads when they are either sharing a story together or for kids when they see their dad reading. It creates a special bond, it’s a lovely time to have a cuddle and children’s behaviour and literacy improves.

So it’s important for kids to see dads pick up a book for pleasure and perhaps discuss it. Imagine a dad telling his kids at dinner – “I’m up to a really exciting part in my book where the good guy has been trapped by the bad guy and I can’t wait to read the next chapter so I can see what happens next!” Well, maybe!

Doesn’t matter whether it is fiction or non-fiction, business or pleasure, the latest bestseller or a classic, literary fiction or a throw-away airplane book. It matters that kids – who idolise their dads – see their dad reading.

A not-so-subtle hint – go buy Dad a book for Father’s Day!

Pax – book review

August 26, 2016 by Karen Comer 2 Comments

The inside of this book, Pax written by Sara Pennypacker, is as beautiful as the outside. As you can see from the cover, Jon Klassen has created a lovely, almost nostalgic-looking cover, showing Pax, the fox, looking outwards. The cover accurately reflects the book, as half of the story is told from Pax’s point of view. Pax was published this year and is suitable for 9-12 year olds.

Pax is about two individual journeys, both internal and external – one by Pax himself, the other by his boy, Peter. The book is written in third person, alternating stories between Peter and Pax. In the first chapter, Peter and Pax are in a car, driven by Peter’s father. They are going to leave Pax, a tame fox, out in the wild as Peter must stay with his grandfather while his father goes to war. The book follows Peter and Pax’s adventures as they try to find each other, despite all odds.

If you’re thinking that this book sounds sentimental, it’s not. It has too much depth and a bitter-sweet ending to be another sentimental animal story. This book is about friendship, growing up, overcoming fear and becoming who you really are.

Peter is a fabulous protagonist – courageous, angry, alone, frustrated and kind.

And then he told Vola what he’d never told anyone else – about the merging he felt sometimes with Pax, how sometimes he didn’t just know what his fox was thinking but actually felt it himself. He held his breath, hearing how crazy it sounded.

Pax, the other protagonist, is curious, willing, intelligent and focused.

He lifted his muzzle and bayed a single aching note. It had been so long since he’d seen his boy. Before this, they’d never been apart for more than a day.

The bond between them is constant and intimate. Kids who love animals will appreciate the connection between Pax and his boy.

This would make a fabulous book for a classroom discussion, with themes of betrayal and trust, and a background of war and death. I know Miss 9 will enjoy it, and I will definitely suggest to Mr 12 that he read it. And as I enjoyed Pax so much, I am going to borrow Sara Pennypacker’s other books from the library.

Children’s Book Council shortlist 2016

August 19, 2016 by Karen Comer 4 Comments

There is definitely something bookish about the month of August, particularly where kids are concerned. The shortlist for the Children’s Book Council awards was announced a little while ago, and the winners will be announced at noon today.

When I looked at the shortlist, I found a few of our favourites, like Molly, Pim and the millions of stars, Cloudwish and A single stone. And when I looked through all the list, it made me want to go to a bookshop and buy all of them!

The book of the year: Early childhood
Piranhas don’t eat bananas
Aaron Blabey

Ollie and the wind
Ronojoy Ghosh

My dog Bigsy
Alison Lester

Perfect
Danny Parker
Freya Blackwood (illustrator)

Mr Huff
Anna Walker

The cow tripped over the moon
Tony Wilson
Laura Wood (Illustrator)

Book of the year: Older readers
The flywheel
Erin Gough

The pause
John Larkin

Freedom ride
Sue Lawson

A single stone
Meg McKinlay

Inbetween days
Vikki Wakefield

Cloudwish
Fiona Wood

Book of the year: Younger readers
The Cleo stories: a friend and a pet
Libby Gleeson
Freya Blackwood (illustrator)

Soon
Morris Gleitzman

Run, Pip, run
J.C. Jones

Sister heart
Sally Morgan

Molly and Pim and the millions of stars
Martine Murray

Shadows of the Master
Emily Rodda

Overall award for information books
Phasmid: Saving the Lord Howe Island stick insect
Rohan Cleave
Coral Tulloch (illustrator)

The white mouse: The story of Nancy Wake
Peter Gouldthorpe

The amazing true story of how babies are made
Fiona Katauskas

Lennie the legend: Solo to Sydney by pony
Stephanie Owen Reeder

Ancestry: Stories of multicultural ANZACS
Robyn Siers and Carlie Walker

We are the rebels: the women and men who made Eureka
Clare Wright

Picture book of the year
Ride, Ricardo, ride!
Shane Devries
(Text: Phil Cummings)

My dead bunny
James Foley
(Text: Sigi Cohen)

Flight
Armin Greder
(Text: Nadia Wheatley)

One step at a time
Sally Heinrich
(Text: Jane Jolly)

Suri’s wall
Matt Ottley
(Text: Lucy Estela)

And the band played Waltzing Matilda
Bruce Whatley
(Text: Eric Bogle)

And regardless of awards, two much-awaited books for children have been released this month. Andy Griffiths and Terry Denton have published their latest offering, The 78th storey treehouse, and after a break of many years, we have another Harry Potter story, this time a play called Harry Potter and the cursed child. The latter is sitting on my bedside table and I have promised to buy the first one for my kids as they are all claiming ownership. Mr 12 has all the other books in the series, Miss 9 says she has read them all at least twice and Mr 7 is reading the The 65th storey treehouse and tells me he wants to be the first one to read the latest one!

Last night, I found Mr 7 and Miss 9 reading with a flashing, fluorescent green ring light from their school disco under the covers, after they had been tucked into bed. I did scold them and take away the lights but I felt equal parts amused and proud!

PS. Apologies for not posting last week – my computer decided not to allow me to log in so I have been without email or internet for half a week. Only took me a couple of hours of talking to Randy and Jeremy in the US to sort out ….

Australian winter literary quotes

August 5, 2016 by Karen Comer 6 Comments

One more month of winter. One more month of not going out without a jacket or coat. One more month of the heater on first thing in the morning and last thing at night. One more month of feeling the cold seep into your shoes from the concrete below. One more month of finding that slim scrap of sun to stand in outside. And of course, Melbourne being Melbourne, it is going to take longer than one month for spring to arrive – the seasons never follow the calendar.

Here are ten quotes from Australian novels which depict winter. In case you want to guess where they’re from, the title, author and date of publication are below.

1. Soon it began to rain but we kept walking, the rain only enough to dampen the outside of our coats while the inside stayed warm with the heat transmitted from our solars.

2. when the fire was well alight, we went in search of bigger sticks to feed it. under the bridge of never-forsaking we went. manny’s eyes lifted up to joey’s lettering and i saw questions in them that he did not speak. we dragged little logs back to the fire. my legs perfectly happy in their red pants. even in winter, watermelon warms the heart.

3. Rain splattered so hard on her windshield, it was as though someone was throwing buckets of water. It looked like a very determined, very wet and cold rain; the sort that would make her gasp.

4. Thunder pealed; a blade of lightning cut across the sky. Vik was shivering. Her feet were cold, she said. Dam water lapped over the lip of her bucket, into her boots.

5. Outside, sudden in the silence, rain started; one of those heavy downpours that drenched you to the bone.

6. The silver birches are bare, but it is sunny. Warm. The weather, it changes. There are warm days in winter and cold days in summer.

7. All the heavy wood gleamed in the late afternoon light coming in through the long window, which was open as always. Mother Seraphina believed that fresh air, even in autumn and winter, was important for keeping her students’ minds on the job.

8. She inspected the sky from the damp and dripping back verandah. It looked like there was a hint of sun. After tucking a folding umbrella into the pocket of her coat she set off.

9. The cold inside the house was seeping and heavy. Outside, there was also the wind, which blasted and stung relentlessly. My ears hurt, my eyes watered, and my fingers and toes went numb. None of my clothes were adequate; I soon learned to wear almost all of them at once.

10. This winter has been bitter – no doubt made more bitter by our winter coats having been turned inside out and restitched by me for the fourth year in a row.

It struck me that nearly all these quotes mention the weather in regard to a character. It is never just a description of the weather, but of how the weather makes a character feel, or how it affects his or her actions.

I’m off to put on another cardi! Which quote summed up winter for you?

The eye of the sheep, Sofie Laguna, 2014
The stars at oktober bend, Glenda Millard, 2016
Big little lies, Liane Moriarty, 2014
Anchor point, Alice Robinson, 2015
The war bride, Pamela hart, 2016
In the quiet, Eliza Henry Jones, 2015
The convent, Maureen McCarthy, 2012
The women’s pages, Debra Adelaide, 2015
Hope Farm, Peggy Frew, 2015
The broken book, Susan Johnson, 2004

The life of elves – book review

July 29, 2016 by Karen Comer 5 Comments

I have never written a book review before I’ve finished reading the book. But I found myself thinking so much about this book, The life of elves by Muriel Barbery, that I wanted to write about it, even though I have about a third of the book still to read. And I really want to talk about it with someone who has read it – so if that’s you, please let me know in the comments!

This book – is not for everyone. It’s probably a sign of a good book when it’s so divisive. Some reviewers thought it was too airy fairy, over-written, confusing and vague. Others loved it.

I’m in that category. The language is beautiful and evocative. The characters are described with so much detail, so much empathy and such originality. Read this description about Rose –

Certain women possess a grace given them by virtue of an increase on the female essence – as the result of an echo effect which, by making them simultaneously singular and plural, allows them to be manifest both in themselves and in the long lineage of their kin; if Rose was a woman of sky and rivers, it was because the river of those who had come before her flowed inside her, through the magic complicity with her gender that went beyond mere blood relation; and if she dreamed of travel, it was because her vision cut through space and time and connected the border territories of the female continent – whence came that transparency rendering her light and elusive, and that fluid energy whose source was somewhere far beyond herself.

I mean, really! That paragraph above is one sentence.

I forgot while reading this that Muriel Barbury wrote this book in French, so I am reading the English translation by Alison Anderson. When you consider how beautiful the translation is, imagine both how talented the translator is and how stunning the original must be.

Muriel Barbury is a reclusive French novelist, whose second novel, The elegance of the hedgehog, was a best-selling book in Paris and New York.

This story of elves and girls in one sense is a classic tale of good versus evil, with good being in the form of two small orphan girls who have never met. They are both surrounded by adults who care for them, even though they are not related to the girls. Maria lives on a farm in France, Clara has come from the mountains in Italy to Rome. Both the girls have special abilities, which they must rely on to fight opposing forces.

I was struck by the descriptions of the land in France, and how it shaped the people. Here’s a fabulous description of a farmer’s sons – descriptive words about people – irascible, joyful, affable linked to the land – rocks, granite, cliffs.

These two fine young lads looked after the farm under the regency of their irascible old man, and they were joyful and solid as rocks; it was a wonder to see such affable characters being watched over by a commander whose granite self sporadically crashed and shattered at the foot of these cliffs of joyfulness, his own sons.

While I was reading, I felt that I couldn’t wait to read it again – yes, a strange thing to think while still reading a book for the first time! But I’m looking forward to reading it a second time because I felt I had lots of gaps in my understanding of the story, yet because I trusted the writer that she would tell a magnificent tale, I was prepared both to suspend disbelief and to skim over the gaps, trusting that all would be revealed.

That trust between a writer and reader is vital, I believe. As a reader, you want to trust that your time is a worthy investment in this particular writer’s book. So many books, so little time – I want this book to intrigue me, offer me escapism, show me how language can inspire and evoke feelings, hold up a mirror to my own life, show me a character to lead the way… There are as many reasons for reading as there are readers.

Well, this book offered me a tale of good against evil, an evocative setting which was closely connected to the characters, a dream-like, myth-like story, all told with language so beautiful I would stop after reading a paragraph, stare into space and consider it before moving on. And all this with still a third to go! Plus the sequel – still to be published.

This is probably the vaguest book review I’ve ever written. I would recommend picking it up in a bookstore and flicking through a few pages. If that appeals to you, you will love it. If you’re not intrigued by a few pages, then it’s probably not for you. Too many books, too little time – choose another book.

I’m curious to know whether this sounds like a book you might enjoy or whether it’s too ‘elvish’ for you.